


when the wolf comes home

by Ambyrfire



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Frottage, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lots of it, M/M, PWP, Porn With Plot, and fighting. they bicker a lot, attempted blowjob, sharing a bed and shower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 17:04:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17165870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambyrfire/pseuds/Ambyrfire
Summary: Slaine let out an amused sound and took a step closer. Inaho raised the muzzle of the gun. Slaine stopped, and– smiled. “Let’s not have any pretenses between us. I know what you’re here for.”Inaho licked his lips. “Do you?”





	when the wolf comes home

**Author's Note:**

> Here to make the yuletide gay…
> 
> This is PWP both with and without plot at the same time. Suffices to say, you don't need the larger plot to get this. If you want it anyway, context in endnotes.
> 
> Warning: suicidal ideations

_ there's bound to be a ghost at the back of your closet _ __  
_ no matter where you live _ __  
_ there'll always be a few things, maybe several things _ _  
_ __ that you're gonna find really difficult to forgive

 

–––––

 

The door hissed open, and Inaho lowered the keycard. Slaine had been sprawled in bed, reading something on a dim tablet. Now, his eyes were on Inaho.

“So you found a master key.” Slaine smiled. It was not a pleasant smile. “The cameras are also disabled?”

“If they are, what would I gain from telling you?”

“Good point.” Slaine placed the tablet neatly aside and stood. His movements were slow, deliberate. He did not seem concerned about the gun aimed in his direction. “I’m sorry you found me so indisposed. I know you might have expected a bit more of an imposing figure.”

Inaho glanced over Slaine’s thin undershirt, his bare legs. The shirt barely covered his thighs. “I don’t care what you’re wearing.”

Slaine let out an amused sound and took a step closer. Inaho raised the muzzle of the gun. Slaine stopped, and– smiled. “Let’s not have any pretenses between us. I know what you’re here for.”

Inaho licked his lips. “Do you?”

“Is there any question of it?”

Slaine did not appear armed. Or angry. Or afraid. Or any emotion that Inaho would have expected the man to show, upon finding his greatest enemy intruding in his private quarters. With a gun.

“Come on, Inaho. You’re a steadier shot than I am, and we both know it.” Slaine lifted his chin, a challenge, and tapped his chest. “Quick and clean, no messing around. Just one shot, and it’s over.” 

The light was pale and diffuse over Slaine’s sleep-wild hair. Inaho’s fingers tightened on the grip of the gun. He did not raise it higher.

“What, having last-second doubts? How unlike you, Inaho. The you I know wouldn’t hesitate.”

“Maybe you don’t know me.” Inaho heard the words come out of his mouth, and they sounded alien. Cold on his tongue. 

Slaine’s eyes changed, subtly. Darker, more empty. “Maybe that’s true. Maybe I don't know you. Maybe I’ve never really known you. Not then, not now.”

“But you’re certain I’ll kill you.”

“How else could this end?” Slaine’s laugh was high and bitter in a way that made a cold fist clench around Inaho’s throat. “What other ending is there, for us?”

“You could kill me.”

Slaine looked amused. “Me? Kill you?” He gestured to his undershirt, his bare feet. “With what, Inaho? I’m not even dressed.”

“There are other ways.”

“Other ways. That’s true. But you’ve got the one that matters right now, right there in your hands.” Slaine’s eyes flicked to the gun, then back to his. “How many people did you shoot on your way to find me?”

Inaho licked his lips again. “None.”

“None? Impressive. I didn’t know you had stealth in you. Subtlety isn’t exactly your… style.”

“What is my style? You said you don’t know me. But you seem to know this.”

“Never give ground, do you? It’s not like you’re particularly hard to get a read on, Inaho.” Slaine took a step closer. Light shifted in his eyes. “You see what you want and you go for it. You don’t hold back. You don’t give in. You’re like a dog with a bone. You never let something go once you get your teeth in it.”

“You’re not wrong,” Inaho said. His palm was clammy around the grip of the gun. “But you missed something.”

“Oh? And what is that?”

Inaho turned and, deliberately slow, clicked on the gun’s safety. He placed the placed on the desk and dropped his hands back to his sides. “Sometimes, my objective changes.” 

Slaine was staring at the gun, stock-still. “What are you playing at?” he breathed.

“I’m not playing anything.”

Slaine whipped around to look him in the eye, and this time his gaze was brimming with rage. “How dare you,” he spat, taking another step towards Inaho.  “How dare you come here, and taunt me! How dare you act as though none of this even matters?” He was moving forwards, still, and Inaho remained where he was as Slaine stalked close enough to touch. “If you’re going to bring a weapon, Inaho, then use it. I would, were I you.”

“Why not?” Inaho jerked his head towards the desk, not breaking eye contact. “The gun is right there. Take it.”

Slaine sucked in a breath. “Fine,” he whispered. “I will. I’ll take it, and I’ll finish the job you refuse to!”

He lunged for the gun, and Inaho grabbed for his arms. Caught a fistful of fine fabric and sinew. “No.”

“Let me go!” Slaine jerked wildly in his hold.

“No. I can’t. Not now.”

“ _ You _ can’t– I can’t! I can’t take it anymore, Inaho, the course is set, and I sit here waiting and waiting– let me go! Let me go!”

“No. I won’t let you harm yourself.”

Slaine stilled. “Is that what you think this is about? I’m not harming myself, Inaho. I’m correcting an error. Why would you care?”

Inaho had never been good with words. He had been choosing the wrong ones, was choosing the wrong ones still. The only way to not choose the wrong words was–

To not use them.

Inaho pulled Slaine to him and crashed their mouths together.

Slaine instantly melted against him, hands coming up to wind around his neck. Slaine tilted his head to correct for the awkward angle of Inaho’s approach. His lips were dry, chapped, warm. Little noises slipped from him on rushed breaths. Inaho wrapped his arms around Slaine’s waist, drawing their bodies together. Slaine slid a hand into his hair and let out a low, desperate sound. 

Slaine’s body was hot in his arms, even through the fabric of the undershirt. Slaine nipped at his lower lip. Inaho ran a hand down his back, tracing over Slaine’s heated skin. Slaine moaned at that, the vibrations running down Inaho’s body and pooling low in his gut. Instinct guided his tongue into Slaine’s open mouth. 

The sound Slaine made was perfect, and Inaho set himself to drawing it forth again. Heat, and slickness– Slaine’s velvety tongue twining with his, Slaine’s scars under his fingertips, Slaine’s heaving chest pressed against his. Slaine let out a whimper with each stuttering gasp. Inaho caught each one and held them in his chest, little pearls of warmth. 

He trailed a hand up Slaine’s thigh and over the sharp crest of his hip, and Slaine jerked against him. Slaine’s back was against the wall. When had they moved to the wall?

Slaine broke free, panting. Inaho could see his flush even in the faint light. His hair stood wild from Inaho’s hands, and his eyes were hooded and dark. Inaho suspected that he himself did not look significantly neater. Slaine’s hands caressed his back, his arms– gripped tight and twisted them both so that Inaho fell back against the same wall.

“Slaine–” Inaho began, body tensing in readiness, but Slaine interrupted him. 

“Just let me do this,” he said, low and hot, eyes gleaming with a hint of something hungry, pained. Slaine rested his head against Inaho’s. Their eyes met. Inaho could feel their breaths mingling. 

Inaho didn’t know what Slaine saw in his eye, but it must have been the right thing, for Slaine sank to his knees. Slaine’s elegant fingers trailed down the length of Inaho’s body over his stealth suit. They stopped at his belt, and Slaine looked up at him again. Through his lashes, eyes hooded.

Inaho swallowed. “Slaine, if you are–” 

“Shhh.” Slaine stroked his hip with hot, hot fingertips. The other hand worked steadily at undoing his buckle. “Do you not want this?”

“It’s– it’s not that I don’t. But–”

He cut off with a strained sound as Slaine nuzzled his obvious arousal. “But what?” Slaine breathed, lips exactly positioned so that Inaho felt every syllable. 

“We can’t– we cannot do this, right now–” it was very difficult to focus on forming words as Slaine began to mouth at him. “It’s not–”

“Who’s to stop us?” Slaine purred. Inaho’s belt finally came undone with a clink. Inaho’s breath was strangely short, as though the room had become low on oxygen. 

With monumental effort, Inaho brought his hands up to Slaine’s shoulders and pushed him back. “I just broke into your private quarters, armed, in an enemy uniform made for stealth ops. While I… appreciate… the offer, doing this now would be dangerous.”

Slaine’s eyes flashed. “Dangerous? When have we ever been safe?”

“I’m not suggesting we take no risks. Only that we don’t take excessive ones.”

“What, like being found by a servant? They’ve seen worse.”

“Me being found here would likely lead to an interplanetary incident. Me being found here engaging in sexual relations with you would likely spark multiple interplanetary incidents.”

Slaine averted his gaze, drawing his hands to his chest. “Sexual relations. You make it sound so… clinical.”

“Would you prefer I call it fucking?”

Slaine’s cheeks darkened. “Call it whatever you want. You’re the one who’s got me on my knees in front of you.”

Inaho blinked. “You did that on your own.”

“Fine, then,” Slaine spat. He staggered to his feet. “You got here. So what are you going to do?”

“I– came here to talk. But I… I should leave.” Inaho said, feeling very far away. “I should not have come here.”

“What, was I that bad a kisser?”

“No.”

“Regretting it?”

“No. I–” Slaine’s eyes darted to the hand Inaho had no realized he had raised. He dropped it back to his side. “I’m putting you at risk. By being here.”

Slaine laughed again, brittle. “Shows what you know.”

“Slaine, if you want me to understand, you must say what you mean.”

“What’s the use? Since you’re so certain it would be better to leave.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

Slaine turned away. His face became hidden in the shadows. He was quiet for a long moment. “What gave you the impression,” he murmured, “that what I want has ever mattered?”

“It does. It matters to me.”

“And you’re enough?”   
“I… I don’t know. There’s nothing else I can offer.”

Slaine raised his head again, and his eyes were glassy bright in the darkness. “You’re enough,” he repeated. It wasn’t a question, this time. “There’s something I… would have of you. If you will.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

“Then please…” Slaine’s voice sank to a whisper, and one thin, pale hand came forward to curl loosely around Inaho’s wrist. “Please don’t leave.”

“I’ll stay,” Inaho said.

Slaine was kissing him again. Inaho alloted enough attention to the rest of the world this time to take note of the path towards the bed that they fumbled along. Slaine threaded a hand through his hair, and he pulled Slaine’s trembling body flush against his.

Slaine’s legs caught the edge of the bed, but they did not so much  _ fall _ as Slaine pulled Inaho down on top of him. Slaine moaned, high and breathy, as Inaho’s weight settled over him. Inaho cupped Slaine’s face in his hands and deepened the kiss. Slaine arched up against him, and Inaho could feel his rabbit-fast heartbeat.

They could not do this. They needed to talk. Inaho had just refused–

But Slaine’s body was hot and pliant in his arms, and in that moment it was impossible to calculate risks and benefits in cold discrete numbers. The only things that had any weight were the curve of Slaine’s lips, his sweet gasps of pleasure, the strange flame that illuminated his eyes even in the dim half-light. 

Heat coursed through his body as Slaine ground up against him. It settled heavy between his legs, urging him on. 

“Please–” Slaine whimpered, grasping at the material of his suit, and Inaho had never been able to resist a challenge from Slaine. He shifted, tracing the line of Slaine’s jaw with his lips, down to the pale arch of Slaine’s neck. Slaine hooked a leg around his thigh, pressing their hips together. The sound Slaine made was very pleasant. 

With sudden clarity, Inaho realized that Slaine was close already. He quivered with tension, each breath a high, vulnerable sound.  His eyes were wet. It was with equal clarity that Inaho realized he himself was not far off. Their bodies thrust together in a wild rythym that Inaho could have sworn he heard beating in the air around them. Slaine was hovering at the edge of crescendo, if Inaho could just push him, push them both, over it–

It coiled low in his gut, tighter and tighter, until he brought his hands up to cup Slaine’s face again. Slaine was a wonderful, beautiful, impossible creature. What they were doing could tear apart the delicate balance of interplanetary politics, but Inaho had always been a selfish man. In an orphanage, one did not have the luxury of empathy. You took what was yours. Laid claim to it. Never let it go. 

Perhaps that was why he scraped his teeth over the line of Slaine’s pale throat and then bit down, just above the point where shoulder met neck.

“In _ ah– ahh–! _ ” Slaine arched against him with a long, trembling cry. 

Inaho’s body was still strung tight, full and heavy, but in that moment he simply watched as Slaine was overtaken by pleasure. The way his tear-damp eyelashes fluttered, his wet lips rounding, sweat-damp nightshirt clinging to his heaving chest. The way the tension crested and broke through his body, running out slowly and leaving him limp and gasping.

Slaine’s eyes refocused on Inaho with obvious effort. His hair was even wilder now, his lips bitten red, his face flushed. He looked…

The way that Slaine looked reminded Inaho, painfully, that he had not had his own release yet. He groaned, low in his throat.

Slaine blinked. “Ah… how discourteous of me. Leaving you unsatisfied.” He tilted his head, languid and alluring. 

Inaho swallowed. His groin pulsed. “Do not– feel obligated to–” Inaho said stiffly, but Slaine cut him off very effectively with a finger to his lips.

Slaine trailed that fingertip across his lips, eyes hooded and hazy. “Let me?”

Inaho found that he could not actually speak in that moment, so he settled for a jerky nod. Slaine ran a hand down his neck to take the zipper in a delicate grip. The low hiss of the suit coming undone was loud in the quiet room, and also somehow incomprehensibly erotic. Slaine’s skin brushed against his abdomen as the suit opened, and his breath hitched.

“Patience,” Slaine breathed, voice roughened from his earlier cries in a way that drove a new shudder of arousal down Inaho’s spine. 

And then Slaine’s fingers wrapped around him, and he stopped noticing anything else.

Two long, sweet strokes and he came undone. 

He dropped his head to the crook of Slaine’s neck. He was shaking. 

Slaine’s fingers carded through his hair. “Don’t you cry on me,” Slaine murmured.

“I’m… not. It was just…”

“A lot?”

“Yes.”

“Just like before…” Slaine said cryptically. Then, “We need to clean up. Or… I do, anyway.” 

Inaho looked up and saw that Slaine was blushing. Inaho also realized that Slaine was indeed still in the nightshirt, which was damp with sweat and–

Oh.

Inaho felt an unfamiliar heat attempting to climb his cheeks. “Do you require help?”

“You could get off me, for one.”

Inaho rolled off Slaine quickly. He watched as Slaine sat up. The air was cold on his exposed skin.

Slaine’s shoulders rose and fell in a sigh. Then, he said, “Shower with me?”

Inaho blinked. “Yes.”

The shower was not large, as expected of Versian architecture. They had to stand close. Slaine leaned into him, slow and tentative, and Inaho stroked his damp hair and pulled Slaine’s head down to rest against his shoulder. They stayed that way for an uncountable stretch of time. Simply breathing, together, under the slow fall of water. Slaine was warm. 

Inaho did not wait for Slaine to ask him to return to the bed, as “Stay” was a broad but direct request. Slaine, however, did not immediately join him. For a moment, he stood near the doorway, regarding Inaho with an odd look in his eyes.

“Slaine?”

“I–” Slaine hesitated visibly. “Are you– is this… alright?”

“If you are,” Inaho said.

Whatever Slaine took from that, it made him come forward and slide under the sheets next to Inaho. They were both clad in fresh undershirts, and though the blankets themselves were unpleasantly thin, their paired body heat was more than enough.

Slowly, as though he expected some kind of reprimand, Slaine curled into Inaho’s side, head pillowed on Inaho’s chest. Inaho welcomed him with an arm around his waist. Slaine sighed, a rush of hot air against Inaho’s bare skin. With that breath, Inaho felt the tension flow out of Slaine’s body.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have come,” Slaine whispered. “But I’m… grateful that you did.”

“You were ready for me to kill you.”

Inaho felt Slaine smirk. “Was it really an unreasonable assumption? I’m the leader of an enemy nation. I have tried to kill you many times. The ceasefire we just negotiated is merely temporary. Who wouldn’t take advantage of the situation if they just happened to find a spare key to my rooms?”

Inaho blinked. “You left the key for me to find,” he said, realization dawning.

Slaine shifted against him. “… perhaps.”

“You wanted me to “take advantage of the situation”.”

“I was hoping you would,” Slaine said, voice low.

“Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he whispered. “My part is over. I have done what I came to do. It’s time for me to bow out, don’t you think?”

“If you don’t want to be here, doing this… why not just leave?”

“Oh, Inaho…” Slaine trailed a finger down his chest. “It’s not that simple. Where would I go? There isn’t a square meter between two planets where my face is unknown. And if I were to vanish suddenly, they’d comb to the bottoms of the oceans and the fringes of the moonbelt for me. The only escape is to… be removed.” He met Inaho’s eye then, gaze heavy.

“That’s not an escape. There is another way. There is always another way.”

Slaine’s mouth quirked up at the corner. “Of course you would say that.” He dropped his head back to Inaho’s chest. “Maybe it’s foolish,” he whispered, “…but I believe it. When you say it, at least.”

“Am I that persuasive?”

“No. You have the rhetorical elegance of a doorknob. But you’re so…  _ certain _ . Maybe it’s catching.”

“I will do what I can to ensure the contagion spreads.”

Slaine smiled. “When there is no remedy? How cruel, Inaho.”

“It’s only cruel if hope is painful.” Inaho returned the smile.

Slaine’s expression faltered, and crumbled. 

Alarm snapped through Inaho. “Slaine?”

“Sorry, I– it’s nothing–” Slaine hid his face against Inaho’s skin. “I’m just– I never–” Slaine shuddered against him. “I never thought that… I could have this. It must be wrong, if it feels so good. That’s what I tell myself, anyway. That some things are impossible.”

“But I’m here.”

Slaine huffed a breathless laugh against his chest. “Indeed. Here you are, regardless. It defies logic or explanation.”

“I disagree. There is a simple explanation.”

“Oh?”

“I care for you. Strongly.”

Slaine stilled. “Sometimes,” he said, soft, “you say things that could easily be misinterpreted.”

Inaho frowned. “I mean what I say.”

“Oh, Inaho,” his tone a strange admixture of pain and affection, “just go to sleep.”

“I meant it, when I said my objective has changed,” Inaho insisted.

Slaine made a frustrated sound and propped himself upright to look Inaho in the eye. “Fine then, what is your objective?”

“My objective involves you being safe and happy, for the rest of your long and peaceful life.”

Slaine’s eyes went wide. For a long moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak. Inaho was not sure he was even breathing. Then, he said, “Oh.” He dropped his head back to Inaho’s chest. “Oh,” he repeated. With that, he went silent. 

Inaho stroked his hair. That, it seemed, was enough. 

In minutes, they were both asleep.

 

–––––

  
  


_ there’s gonna come a day when you feel better _

_ you’ll rise up free and easy on that day _

_ and float from branch to branch _

_ lighter than the air _

_ just when that day is coming, who can say, who can say? _

 

_ our mother has been absent ever since we founded rome _

_ but there’s gonna be a party when the wolf comes home _

 

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: Song credit! Title and beginning/ending passages are from the Mountain Goats song "Up The Wolves."
> 
> Why, you the hypothetical reader asks, am I returning to fic after almost 2 years with this? Short answer: real life. Slightly longer answer: applying to, and then attending, medical school. It's been a rough time and stress saps both my inspiration and my motivation for writing. This I managed to write during a bolt of energy during NaNoWriMo, and polish up for publication now on break. I hope that this will strike a pattern for me of further creativity. I have a lot of unfinished things waiting in the wings…
> 
> Plot Context: this is a snippet from a Slaine-centric timeloop AU in which Slaine died some time post-canon and found himself back in the events of mid-cour 2. In the doomed timeline, he and Inaho ended up in a relationship. And the "peace" disintegrated into a 3rd war. Somehow, Inaho also ended up being the one who killed Slaine. Slaine, restarting the timeline with foreknowledge of what would happen, was able to avert his own fall and the events of the end of the series. He did not do this to save his own skin, however, but to ensure a peace with more stability than the one he saw. This was actually fairly successful, as the mentioned ceasefire and Slaine's "my work here is done" attitude shows. Now, this fic would be a massive complicated multichapter, and I am not keen to foist another one of those on myself. So, I'm not writing it! Just this bit. And possibly other bits if they hit me.


End file.
